Breaking the Cycle
by omuse
Summary: McCoy and Spock just can't seem to get along. For Jim's sake, though, Hikaru hopes they'll learn.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Doctor McCoy and Commander Spock hated each other. It was a fact that everyone on the _Enterprise_ was well aware of.

Most people put it down to a conflict of personalities (the doctor was well known for being extremely emotional and the Commander was, well, a _Vulcan)_ though there are a select few who insist it's UST.

All things considered, Hikaru leans strongly towards the first explanation. The two hardly made it a secret of exactly what they thought of each other should the other be mentioned and from what Hikaru could tell, very little of it (i.e. read: none) was complimentary. Hell, whenever the two of them actually met face to face, the whole deck could usually hear the screamed insults (not that the Commander would ever be as emotional as to actually raise his voice though no one could deny that his comments were anything other than _pissy_).

Sometimes, there would be a really bad fight and the Captain ends up having to interfere. The two officers would then proceed to instead focus all their ill temper on Captain Kirk who would pout and throw himself into work since his two best friends are being _mean idiots_ _when he was just doing his Captainly duty but you understand right Hikaru？_,and thereby run everyone else ragged. At least, until the Captain gets hurt on yet another away mission gone wrong and the Doctor and Commander would call a temporary truce until the Captain gets better and the _Enterprise_ is safe.

Things would stay on the down low for a while before the tension builds up again and Doctor McCoy and Commander Spock nearly brawling on the command deck yet _again_ and the Captain's getting involved and the other two are lashing out and everyone gets to share in the suffering. Over and over again. Some people have even started betting pools on when each phase of the cycle will start and what'll trigger the switchover. Out there in the middle of the desolate starfields, people end up betting on pretty much everything.

Then, one day, the Captain doesn't get involved. He doesn't call the other two officers in to 'discuss certain problematic behavior'. Instead, he claims shore leave and beams down that evening, presumably to spend some time in the local bars and relax instead of dealing with tantrums of two, otherwise, capable and intelligent beings.

A part of Hikaru cheered the Captain on. It had been a tough last few missions and though there were no major incidents, he knew that things had not been easy for the Captain lately and the man deserved a break from dealing with the two's temper tantrums over each other.

The rest of Hikaru, though, bemoans the fact that the rest of them will now have to try and deal with the bad moods of the Doctor and Commander. As he stands and listens to the Commander coolly decimate his draft on the possible hallucinogenic effects of one of the new plant species from the last planet they visited, he cannot help but wish that the Captain would come back soon and fix it all.

He doesn't.

Instead, the ship receives an urgent message the next morning when the Captain should have been beaming back up that one of the drinking establishments had gone up in flames and collapsed due to a fight that had gotten out of hand and a freak accident involving a keg of Andorian Ale and someone's malfunctioning padd. Five humans, two Andorians, an Orion, and a Betazoid had been found dead, fifteen others of a variety of species found wounded, and about twenty more still unaccounted for.

Including the Captain.

A/N: Review are love!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

"Well?"

The tone is deceptively mild. Hikaru tenses and pays special attention to the screen in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Pavel doing the same thing at his station.

"Doctor McCoy."

Spock's tone is bland and modulated. He doesn't sound angry or upset. Not even that slight bit of disdainful coolness that typically characterizes his interaction with the McCoy. His voice is perfectly calm and emotionless.

Hikaru wasn't sure who he should be more afraid of at this point.

"I asked you a question you goddamned hobgoblin."

He fought the urge to cower underneath his console. There really wasn't enough room and any motion might attract their attention.

"You asked a question but it was a highly ambiguous one that gave no indication as to what you actually wanted to know."

Was that Pavel who just whimpered?

Hikaru did not have to turn around to know that the good Doctor was now rapidly turning bright red in fury. He'd already seen it several times in the past two days, usually followed by a blistering rant that ended only when Spock threatened to call for Security, not that it stopped the man from continuing to mutter what were no doubt extremely colorful insults under his breath as stormed back out.

"You know damn well what I'm asking about you pretentious bastard! I swear to –"

"Incoming from Rigald!"

Uhura's voice sounded lovelier than ever, breaking up McCoy's rant before he really built up much steam, not that he didn't already have plenty of steam to let off already.

"Open communications."

Spock ordered.

"We hail Captain Spock."

_Commander Spock. Jim is the Captain and Spock is his First Officer,_ Hikaru wanted to correct them.

"I am the Commander. The Captain of the _Enterprise_ is James Kirk, who is, I presume, the subject of this communication."

Hikaru grinned along with Pavel at the put down. Looking over, even McCoy had given a slight nod of approval. Despite their less than auspicious beginnings,Jim and Spock had really come together as a good command team and had just a tight a relationship as Jim and McCoy did. Briefly, he wondered if maybe they were fighting because they were _jealous_.

The voice on the other ended hesitated slightly at Spock's rather frosty tone before continuing.

"We have received a digital file for visual and auditory viewing that we believe is relevant to the search for your Captain. We are sending it to you now."

Uhura tapped away quickly at her console and nodded to Spock.

"Received Commander."

"Then play it."

The image was shaky but Hikaru had no problem making out who the tied-up bloody and obviously unconcious form on the ground was. Going by the sudden tension in the room, especially from Spock and McCoy, neither did anyone else.

A voice began to speak.

"We have your Captain. You will have five sunsets to get him back alive."

The image and sound cut off. Silence reigned as they waited for the rest of the clip which was not forthcoming.

Uhura began tapping furiously away at her console, no doubt trying to figure out why the video had suddenly cut off.

"Rigald. The clip was incomplete. We request the rest of the file."

"The entirety of the file has been sent to you."

Uhura frowned and looked at Spock who took over.

"Rigald. The portion of the file we received state only that these unknown criminals have the Captain and that they claim that we have a limited time in which to procure his rescue."

"Affirmative. The entirety of the clip has been sent to you."

Spock looked remarkably similar to the time right before he tried to strangle Jim over the consoles. Hikaru had no doubt that if the Rigaldian contact had been present, he'd probably be getting the stuffing beat out of him. If not by the angry Vulcan, then by the red-faced Doctor who was now cursing loudly.

"What the fuck do you mean that's the 'entirety of the clip'? What the hell do those stupid bastards want? Goddamnit! Where's Jim? What kind of stupid trouble did that man get into this time?"

"Doctor McCoy that is enough."

The Commander's voice cut across the Doctor's angry demands like ice.

"Then get some goddamn answers you cold-blooded bastard! And get Jim back where he belongs!"

He jerked his head at the chair the Commander currently resided in. The Captain's chair.

Hikaru took a moment to try to figure out what he should do if they finally decided to start swinging. Should he try to help break it up himself or call and wait for security. Spock had all those freaky Vulcan moves and Hikaru still remembered rather vividly how brutal Jim's beat down had been when pushed the Vulcan too far. The Doctor wasn't exactly lacking moves either as Hikaru recalled from when he'd tried to take over the Sick Bay after waking up still high on the effects of some local plant.

Thankfully, Spock kept his calm and went back to communicating with the Rigaldians instead of responding to the Doctor's taunt.

"Rigald, was there nothing else with the file? Were there no demands made in exchange for his safety and return? Is there any trace of who sent the file or where it is from?"

"We discovered the file two hours ago. Attempts to trace its origin have met with little success."

Spock was silent for a moment.

"The _Enterprise_ will be sending a few of our personnel to assist in the process. Expect their arrival in approximately fifteen minutes."

"Understood, Commander Spock. We stand ready."

Pavel spoke up hesitantly,

"Five sunsets, Commander. That is not much time I think. Only thirty-two hours."

He didn't mention the fact that no one even knew for sure when the supposed countdown had actually started. They were all thinking it anyways

Not much time at all. Hikaru could see McCoy's jaw tighten with worry and fear. He thought maybe that Spock's hands had tightened briefly where they lay on top of the arm rests of the Captain's chair as well.

"Indeed Ensign Chekov. Therefore we must work quickly to ensure his safe return."

Spock turned his attention to assembling the team going down while pointedly ignoring McCoy's demands to be a part of that team. Ignoring the verbal fighting going on behind them, Pavel leaned across the space between their consoles and whispered to Hikaru with a worried frown under those scruffy curls of his.

"The Keptin did not look good in that clip. I am worried for him."

"Don't worry. He's gotten out of far worse."

Hikaru assured him. He didn't mention the fact that he couldn't tell if the figure in the clip had been breathing or not.

"He's Captain James T. Kirk of the _Enterprise_. He'll be fine."

The crew of the _Enterprise_ would make sure of it if they had to move heaven and earth to do so.

"–YOU AND YOUR DAMNED LOGIC CAN GO TO HELL! I'M GOING DOWN THERE!"

"Call security and have them escort the Doctor to where he _belongs_. In the Sick Bay."

_And considering those two, _Hikaru thought, _they just might have to do just that_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

Warning: Jim's got a dirty mouth.

His head hurt.

Come to think of it, _everywhere hurt._

The question was why.

Images of fire and screaming and the taste of alcohol pervading his senses….

Jim tries to makes sense of it all but the only thing he can think of is the fact that his head's about to fucking split open and he's going to have to deal with Bones and Spock and all their shit with a seriously shitty hangover headache. Damn it all! It's been two years on the same fucking ship and the two are still squabbling like stubborn two year olds except with more advanced vocabulary, which, in this case, was definitely of no help. Psh. And they call _him_ the immature one.

The pounding in his head makes him groan slightly. Weird though. It doesn't quite feel like a hangover headache and Jim's had plenty of experience figuring out exactly how those feel. At the height of his bar hopping days, he could estimate exactly how much and sometimes even what he drank the night before simply by whether his head felt like it was being drilled through with a dull spoon or with an acid-dipped rose bush.

This headache oddly enough felt like the kind that always preluded him realizing he'd just woken up in the Sick Bay. Again.

Cautiously, Jim opened his senses a little to his surroundings.

His first thought was that it stank. The second was that this was so not Sick Bay. Had he gotten into some fight at the bar and ended up passed out on the floor or maybe the alleyway behind somehow? How odd. He thought he had given up looking for that kind of trouble years ago when it had finally hit him how much more he could be doing. How much more he could _be_.

The sudden and very painful boot in his ribs made him gasp and eyes jerk wide open. Fucking hell! Bruised ribs, possibly even cracked. Bones was going to tear him a new one.

"You are Captain Kirk of the _Enterprise._"

Blinking away the starbursts of pain, Jim looked up to see a fine dressed young man looking horribly out of place amongst the dirty grimy surroundings.

Then he looked down at himself best he could. Rough rope digging lines into an already ripped up shirt, filthy with grime and blood. The patches of skin revealed by the rips were colorfully bruised and Jim just knew that there were dozens more scattered all over his torso and the rest of his body if the report he was beginning to get back from his pain sensors was accurate.

Jim sighed a little.

Great. This was no simple bar fight. He's been kidnapped by unknown hostiles. Hopefully the _Enterprise_ would come for him soon though. Then he could take a nice long shower with real water (Captain's priviliges) and then get down to trying to figure out how to get Bones and Spock to make friendly already because he _hated_ the fact that his two best friends couldn't get and he kept getting caught up in between as Captain and as their freakin' friend!

Which then prompts him to remember exactly _why_ he'd been down there in that bar on Rigald in the first place. _Yeah_,_ my ship will come for me, _he thinks,_ if those two stubborn bastards don't blow her up first!_

"Your crew has been informed of your captivity. They now have four sunsets in which to save you. Then we will kill you."

Four sunsets. That's only about 25 hours. Shit.

Jim looks around and wiggles around in his ropes, looking for any give. Any give at all. The knot by his left rib feels loose enough that he might be able to undo it. It makes his ribs ache something terrible trying to reach that knot but Jim sets aside the steady ache. He's had worse. Right now, he needs to focus on escaping.

A/N: Reviews are love!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

"Once again, Doctor McCoy, you are allowing your emotions to cloud what little rationality you possess. If you would perhaps for once think _logically_, then you would understand that my plan is far superior."

"Superior my ass! You can take your damned Vulcan logic and shove it up –"

"Enough! Shut up or get out!"

Hikaru knew that his outburst was unprofessional but considering the circumstances, he felt more than justified. The Commander and the Doctor didn't get along. Fine. He got that. After all, there were people that he would rather toss out of an airlock too. But this, this was getting to be just plain ridiculous.

Jim had been _kidnapped_ and from the images, it sure as hell didn't look those kidnappers were playing nice. Jim, their Captain and _friend,_ had maybe hours to live if they couldn't shape up and figure out where he was and rescue him and here these two _IDIOTS_ in _charge_ were, too busy taunting each other to actually help.

It was enough to make Hikaru want to bash them over the head with his sword. Those two were lucky he preferred non-violent methods. Still didn't stop him from imagining smashing their heads together. Painfully. And repeatedly.

"I find myself in agreement with Sulu. Doctor. _Commander._"

Hikaru never stopped finding himself amazed at just how talented Uhura was at communication. He didn't think anyone else was capable of fitting that much complete and utter contempt into a title of respect. The constant practice with having to address Jim as Captain probably helped with that though she nowadays said that title with considerably less contempt and a lot more actual respect and maybe even a hint of exasperated fondness every now and then. Hikaru thinks that someday, she'll even give Jim permission to address her as Nyota.

Then Hikaru's train of thought, and whatever response the Commander and Doctor were coming up with, were put to a stop by Chekov's loud exclamation.

"I found him! I found him!"

* * *

><p>The bonds dug painfully into Jim's wrists as he attempted, without much success, to wriggle his way out. Busy cursing out his kidnappers, the rope, and whoever decided that James T. Kirk wasn't even allowed a fucking drink without getting into trouble (not even his fault!), he didn't notice the figure walking up to him until the sudden outburst of pain from getting his already damaged ribs announced their presence.<p>

Taking a few moments to calm the shouts of _pain, pain, pain_ that his ribs were screaming at him, Jim was a bit slow in tilting his head up to look at his captor. Five pale gray eyes blinked down at him. A Rigaldian.

What was odd however was the fact that this Rigaldian bore five nasty looking scars across his brow instead of the traditional diamond tattoos that Jim had seen on essentially every other Rigaldian he'd ever met.

"So. What's your deal?"

The Rigaldian blinked at him.

"I mean, why have you kidnapped me? Which, by the way, is a pretty serious offense considering I'm a Starfleet Captain and not only that, I'm Captian _James T. Ki-_"

Ribs. Broken. Definitely broken now.

"Your identity is known."

The boot pressed itself down painfully for a moment into his broken ribs before finally lifting off of him. Bastard. After a few careful breaths, Jim decided to try his luck again and hope that curiosity wouldn't kill the ca(p)t(ian).

"Who are you?"

The Rigaldian shifted and Jim hunched in, trying best to protect himself as best he could in case the Rigaldian attempted to stomp all over him again. A beat and then, to Jim's surprise, his kidnapper responded with words sans the violence for once.

"I am Chl'Ist."

"Huh. You actually answered." He blinked, just a little shocked. "Or are you lying to me?"

"That is my true name."

Jim couldn't help but crack a small grin.

"So Chl'Ist, you go around identifying yourself to your prisoners often?"

The Rigaldian blinked his eyes rapidly. Then a boot was suddenly smashing into Jim's temple, snapping his head back and adding a side of throbbing pain to go along with the steady aching pressure that had been there since he woke earlier. Over his own harsh breathing, Jim heard his captor's response.

"No. It is only honorable to let you know the name of the one who will be terminating your existence soon."

"Oh goodie," Jim managed to gasp out before a second kick connected with the now broken ribs and sent him spiraling into unconsciousness.

A/N: Story for readers. Reviews for author. Yes?


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

Ensign Giotto was not having a good day. It had started with a malfunctioning replicator that kept giving him scrambled eggs no matter how many times he asked for sunny side up and culminated in his current situation: crawling through filthy stinking sewers while listening to the First Officer and Chief Medical Officer snipe at each other over the comm.

He wasn't sure which part of that was worse.

As yet another unidentified substance squished underneath his hands, he imagined gleefully lining up the _Enterprise's_ top three commanding officers for target practice, starting with _dear_ Captain 'Cupcake' Kirk then 'I am Vulcan you insignificant human' First Officer and finishing with the way too hypo happy Doctor McCoy.

_I'd aim for the mouth to shut them up first. Then the knees to make sure they didn't run off to get in some crazy trouble that ends up with the _Enterprise_ and her crew just barely escaping being blown up or stuck in an alternate universe ruled by white mice or invaded by dinosaurs or with everyone being turned into armadillos …_

Giotto blinked and looked back at that thought. They had really gotten into some seriously crazy shit in just over three years (phasers had a been a real pain to manipulate without opposable thumbs. Stupid Klingons just had to attack then.) and to think that they still had practically two years to go. He shuddered and it was only partly because of the mystery slime dripping down his back despite the uniform.

"Ensign Giotto, are you listening?"

Giotto rolled his eyes. Listening to what? You two ruin any and all respect I might have had for my so called superiors?

"_Ensign Giotto. _There's something moving towards you. You must—"

Too late.

* * *

><p>"Rise and shine, Cupcake."<p>

Giotto groaned.

"Come on buddy. Wake up and start blabbing. We need to make sure you don't have a concussion."

He cracked his eyes open slightly, saw the beaten up yet still cockily grinning visage of the Captain, and gave another groan.

The good news was that he'd found the Captain. The bad news was that he was now apparently _also_ a prisoner. And had a possible concussion.

"You can do it caveman. I know you know how to talk human. Pretend you're trying to impress our dear Communications officer."

"Shut up."

The goddamned trouble magnet laughed.

"Congratulations! You're finally learning semi-intelligent speech."

Giotto glared and refused to rise to the taunt.

"Shut up."

Kirk rolled his eyes.

"Real mature."

"You're one to talk," Giotto shot back.

The other man gave a shrug.

"Whatever. So any chance of a _real_ rescue anytime soon?"

Giotto gritted his teeth and tugged at the bindings around his wrists and ankles. No luck.

"They know I got captured so any attempt at secrecy is already blown. Security should be combing through Sector 5 as we speak. Someone will find us soon."

The Captain looked unimpressed.

"Great. Because they'll be sure to find us there when we're not actually even on the planet."

Giotto blinked.

"But we traced the transmission—"

Kirk sighed.

"It's called a false lead Cupcake."

Giotto stared.

"Oh."

Kirk just stared back flatly.

"Shit."

That got Giotto a wry grin. He shifted around, trying to get a little bit more comfortable.

"So. Find out who we're dealing with yet?"

Kirk shook his head.

"I got a name, Chl'Ist. Rigaldian, oddly well dressed but his diamond tattoos have been carved out or something. Didn't ring a bell to me. You?"

Giotto shrugged. Didn't sound familiar to him either.

They sat in silence for a while. Then Kirk cleared his throat.

"Um…how are Spock and McCoy doing?"

Giotto thought about it for a moment. The several dozen near fights on the bridge, the constant arguing during planning sessions, the growing sentiment among the crew that it might be better to throw one or more likely _both_ of them in the brig. How to break it gently to his Captain that his two top officers were pretty much sabotaging the rescue mission out of their own stubborn inability to get along?

"We're so dead."

He winced as the Kirk's shoulders slumped in resignation. That probably was _not_ the way to break it gently. As annoying as the guy could be, he was a good Captain and he didn't really deserve to always be getting caught in the middle of Commander and Doctor's spats.

To be honest, Giotto really couldn't figure out what was up with those two. Apart, they were pretty decent commanding officers. Good at what they did, many even say the best and so long as you didn't do anything stupid, they never rode you too hard like some officers Giotto's heard about. But put them in the same room and any hint of professionalism seemed to get tossed out the window.

And inevitably the Captain would have to get involved and get burned by _both_ of them for his trouble.

"Sorry." He said a little guiltily.

The corners of Kirk's mouth quirked up a bit.

"Nah. You're probably right. Those two just really can't seem to get along, can they?"

Giotto watch as the other man frowned thoughtfully.

"I just don't get it. They're both my friends so I know that if they'd just sit down and talk to each other they'd get to be friends to but for some reason they'd rather fight."

His frown deepened.

"I had thought they'd get over it eventually. Maybe bond over having to save my ass all the time or something like that but if anything, it's getting worse."

Kirk's gaze drifted off, looking off towards something only he could see.

"I'm worried that I'll have to take more drastic action soon."

_Drastic action?_ Giotto thought. _Like transferring one of them?_

"What do you mean by that Captain?"

Kirk turned to him with a grim face.

"I am the Captain of the Enterprise. The well being of this ship and her crew come first. Always."

Giotto watched as Kirk went back to his own ponderings. He really did feel sorry for the guy sometimes. Even if he was a real pain in ass.

**A/N:** Sorry about the wait! I've been having some difficulty making the scenes flow because my mind keeps jumping to a future scene that still needs some building up. That one should be coming up some time in the next few chapters though. Thank you to everyone who's being reading and especially to those who have left reviews. I absolutely adore them! I have no beta so any constructive criticism you guys have to offer is very welcome.

Also, to those in the U.S., Happy Fourth of July! Hope you guys had fun watching the fireworks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

Off planet. The Captain was being held _off planet_.

They'd spent hours combing through Sector 5 only to find out he was never there in the first place because he was _off planet the entire goddamn time._

And if some lucky ensign from communications hadn't picked up on some odd frequencies in the background of the transmission, they'd still be off chasing phantoms while time quickly ran out.

Hikaru wanted to tear out his hair when it had announced that they'd essentially been wasting what precious little time they had because they got blindsided by a false lead. He could only imagine how the others felt, especially Uhura who was now searching for off planet frequencies with a single-minded intensity that was actually sort of scary.

Just a few hours left now before the execution deadline given by the kidnappers.

Someone nudged him in the ribs. He looked over to see Pavel staring intently at his own console, attempting to help trace any shuttles that might have left the planet with the Captain and/or the ensign on board.

"We'll find him," the young Russian boy whispered as his eyes continued tracking across the data. Pavel had deep shadows under his eyes by now and his eyes were fever bright. Not surprising considering he and most of the main crew in fact, had been working practically non-stop trying to find the Captain.

Pavel spared him a quick glance and a small reassuring smile.

"Like you said, he is Keptin James T. Kirk, yes?"

Hikaru stared for a moment before nodding firmly and turning his attention back to the number streaming across his own screen.

Right. The _Enterprise_, her crew and her Captain had been through far worse than this including that Armadillo and Klingon incident and they had still made it out alright. This time would be no different.

Yeah, time was low and running lower and the Doctor and First Officer were just barely keeping from fistcuffs but everything was going to work out just fine because they were the freaking _Enterprise_.

* * *

><p>Giotto stared up at the rather uninspiring and gloomy ceiling of whatever room they were being held in and tried not to think about how little time they had left before their mystery kidnappers finished them off and the odds of being rescued before then.<p>

A little ways away from him, he could hear the steady breathing of his Captain.

Shallow and steady. Probably broken ribs or worse. Definitely no strenuous activity like running for their lives unless they wanted the Captain puncturing a lung and choking to death on his blood. And if that happened, Giotto might as well as hand himself back over to the kidnappers.

His musings on the topic were interrupted by the sudden clunk of the doors swinging wide open. He struggled to a crouching position best as he could considering the bindings restricting him. Kirk did the same though a good deal slower as one of their mysterious captors strode into the gloomy chamber.

Human female. Looked to be in early twenties. Blonde and fairly pretty if a little dirty. Wore an old Starfleeet uniform; stolen for sure.

Giotto didn't know who she might be but it seems Kirk sure did going by the way he suddenly stiffened and his eye wide with shock.

"Hello James."

She had a lilted accent and a husky voice. Had she maybe one of Kirk's numerous conquests? Or maybe one of those many dozen people that he just *happened* to know?

Kirk seriously knew the most unexpected people sometimes and more were always popping out of the woodwork. Some on them had been surprisingly helpful while others, well, let's just say there were acquaintances that would have been better left unrenewed. Forever.

"It is proper manner to respond when someone greets, James. I had thought we had already discussed this."

_Yeah_? Giotto thought, _Well it ain't exactly proper manners to go about beating up and kidnapping people either._

The woman sighed when Kirk remained silent. Her footsteps echoed softly in the room as she simply paced silently in front of the Captain for a few mintues. Stopping, she crouched in front of him and lifted a hand to his cheek.

From his angle, Giotto couldn't see her expression but Kirk's looked as if he'd just been gutted with a rusty blade. Unfortunately, Giotto had a good frame of reference for that.

"Who could have imagined it? That it could have turned out this way? It was never suppose to end in tragedy. We were suppose to be happy. I've always disliked tragedies and yet when it comes to you, it never seems to end differently."

Giotto didn't know what the hell she was talking about but he sure as hell didn't like this talk of tragedy and Kirk mixed together.

"Why are you doing this?"

Kirk's voice was steady but Giotto could hear the strain in the words.

The blonde woman straightened from her crouch. She brushed off the knees of her stolen uniform and began to walk out.

"Why? At least tell me why," Kirk called out after her.

"Lenore…."

The woman, Lenore apparently, stopped in the doorway but did not turn back around.

"Two hours until the final sunset. Farewell James."

And then she was gone.

A/N: Thanks to those who have been reading and especially those who have reviewed. I love hearing from everyone so please R&R. In response to the question from **WithLoveFromTorchwood**, my current outline for the story doesn't include any major pairings though there might be talk of various romantic entanglements in the background. Read into those what you'd like ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

"Readings show about a dozen life signals on the ship. Best bet for locating the Captain and Ensign Giotto is over here."

Pavel pointed towards the largish chamber next to the cargohold of the hologram shuttle layout. Spock nodded and turned to the security officer beside him.

"Very well. Lieutenant Parja, gather your team and prepare for transportation in five minutes. Is there something you need to say Doctor McCoy?"

Hikaru tensed. Surely they wouldn't trying to get into another argument at this point?

"Send Davis with them. He's familiar with Kirk's med kit."

A moment, then,

"Agreed. Ensign Chekov, if you would send the word?"

"Yes Sir!"

Hikaru breathed a small sigh of relief. Both had been obviously tense but looks like they could pull it together if necessary for Kirk's sake after all. Trading smiles with Pavel, he settled back in his chair and began to steer the ship into position.

* * *

><p>"So…."<p>

"None of your business."

Giotto rolled his eyes.

"I've crawled through sewage, got whacked over the head, tied up, likely going to die, and I'm _bored_. All because of _you_."

Giotto glared pointedly at Kirk.

"I deserve to know why."

After a moment of expectant silence, Giotto prepared to start up an all out interrogation. It wasn't like there was much else to do. But Kirk interrupted before he could launch his first volley of questions.

"You won't die."

Giotto raises a questioning eyebrow but Kirk ignores it. Giotto refuses to pout outwardly but on the inside, a mini-Giotto is pouting like he was in the pouting Olympics. Spock and McCoy almost always got answers out of the Captain when they did it. Maybe he needs more practice?

Sigh. Time for the professional approach.

"Captain, I am your Security. That means it is my job to ensure your security and well-being and to do so, I need to know any relevant information you might have on the situation."

Kirk gave an amused little smile that did not bode well for Giotto's sense of success.

"And I'm the Captain. Meaning I get to issue the orders Ensign."

Giotto most certainly did not pout. Nope. Not at all. Curse the man for always turning his own tactics back on him.

"Come on Kirk. You can't expect me to just let it go. At least tell me what's the deal with you and the pretty lady? She one of the notches on that bedpost of yours or something?"

The smile dropped from his face.

"No."

No? Not an old flame? Or no, not telling?

Giotto wasn't sure but considering the look on Kirk's face, he thought that discretion might be the better part of valor for now. Whatever was going on between those two, it was obviously a sensitive matter.

* * *

><p>"They've found us Sir."<p>

Chl'Ist stood perfectly still as he waited for his orders.

"Sir?"

"Gather everyone and prepare to switch ships."

It was the human girl who had spoken instead. No matter. It was often so these days. Chl'Ist turned to exit but the paused for a moment before turning around.

"And the prisoners? Are we to execute them early then?"

The man sitting beside her shook his head.

They both turned to look at him.

"Not yet. There are things I still wish to discuss with our dear Captain James T. Kirk. Lenore, you know what to do."

"Yes, Father."

_What are they planning? _Chl'Ist wondered. But he did not give voice to his questions. His place was not to question, only to obey.

* * *

><p>With Kirk stubbornly refusing to satisfy his curiosity, Giotto decided to move on to his latest fantastical plan for keeping the Captain out of trouble. In his mind, he imagined trapping the Captain in one of those giant protective plastic bubbles that he'd seen in a couple old Earth movies. Unfortunately, Kirk's ability to attract trouble was so overwhelming that it even hijacked his imagination and Giotto was now picturing the many different ways it would all go wrong.<p>

Like Kirk in a giant bubble rolling down a hill and into a giant pit of lava. Or some random planet inexplicably finding giant bubbles offensive and showing their displeasure via large sharp objects. Or maybe putting Kirk in there only to find out he was allergic to the stupid thing and Giotto then having to deal with Doctor McCoy.

Giotto shuddered. Damn that man was scary with his hypos.

The door swung open again, jostling Giotto from his daydreams.

The mystery lady walked in with a scarred Rigaldian following behind her carrying more rope and box.

"It seems your Starfleet _friends_ have come for you Jay."

Starfleet friends no doubt referred to the _Enterprise_.

"I believe, however, that there are still a few things that we need to take care of before we can return you to them."

That was not a very comforting statement. The Captain cast a wary glance at the stuff in the Rigaldian's hands before asking,

"And the Ensign?"

Yes! What _about_ the Ensign? The poor brave Ensign who's been knocked over the head and tied up all because of that trouble magnet Captain of his.

"You know me, Jay. I always hated to have to hurt anyone unnecessarily."

The lady smiled. Giotto shivered and wondered exactly how she defined 'unnecessarily'.

"We'll leave him here for Starfleet to pick up so long as you behave. Which you will." She tilted her head to the side, "Right, Jay?"

Wait. Wait Just. A. Minute. Leave him behind? _Without the Captain?_

He could practically feel the hypos stabbing into him already, accompanied by the scarily bland monotones of a truly pissed off Vulcan.

Couldn't they just shoot him with that phaser they were carrying instead? It'd probably be a hell of a lot more merciful than what Spock and McCoy (and likely the rest of the crew and boy were there some very crazy, very loyal, and very scary ones in that bunch) would do to him if they found out he'd let the kidnappers simply hare off with the Captain.

The Captain grimaced.

"Fine. No harm is to come to him."

The lady smiled all prettily, "Of course."

Great. Now what?

**A/N:** Why do weekends never last? Can't believe it's almost half through the week already. Sigh. Anyways, Hope everyone enjoys this new chapter. Thanks to everyone whose been reading! Reviews are especially loved!

P.S. Guess who's the guy in charge ;)


	8. Interlude

**Disclaimer: **Not mine.

_**Five Sunsets Ago**_

Once upon a time, there was a grumpy doctor who had lost every goddamn thing he cared about to a heartless bitch. Due to copious amounts of alcohol and general feelings of despair, the grumpy doctor decided to throw his life away by joining Starfleet and thus met a blond idiot who kept dragging him into trouble and calling him 'Bones'.

Now instead of drinking and doing stupid things, he got to watch the blond idiot do even stupider things and deal with green blooded hobgoblins that didn't give shit about anything other than his precious logic. And he couldn't even drink since it was difficult enough trying to keep the idiots that populated this ship alive without the haze of alcohol, though God knows his nerves could have used it.

McCoy sighed mournfully and set the glass of bourbon down without taking a single sip. The first round of crew members had transported down for shore leave on Rigald last night and no doubt, medbay would be receiving a good number of them back in less than pristine condition anytime now. Especially considering the Captain had apparently gone down with them.

McCoy frowned to himself. The last time he'd checked the rosters, he could have sworn he'd seen Jim's name down for one of the later rounds.

He didn't have much time to ponder this though since the doors to his office suddenly swooshed open and the First Officer strode in. McCoy grimaced. Great. Just what he needed.

"Whadda ya need _now_ you damned elf?"

Spock looked pointedly at the glass sitting in front of McCoy.

"It is not appropriate for personnel to be drinking while on duty, especially one of your position doctor."

McCoy rolled his eyes.

"I haven't so much as had a sip of the damned thing. Now did you come here for an actual reason or you just here to lecture me on the illogicalness of having a real heart?"

"Rest assured doctor, I would never impose on you unless necessary."

McCoy twitched and resisted the urge to just punch the condescending look off the Vulcan's face.

"Before the Captain transported down for his scheduled shore leave, he informed me that he expected us to, in his words, 'kiss and make up', before he got back or else he would be taking disciplinary action. I believe he might have said something of a similar nature to you?"

McCoy nodded reluctantly. Jim had thrown that same phrase at him just hours before transporting down. When McCoy had scoffed at the idea, the other man clarified a few things.

_Kiss and make up. Or else I'm launching you two off alone in a fucking shuttle until you do._

"Then, doctor, I believe that in compliance with the Captain's orders, we should cease any perceived hostilities between us. In particular, if you would refrain from your continuous and unseemly attacks on my character while _in public_ at the very least, I believe we could achieve a much more amenable relationship."

_And here we go _again, McCoy thought, _Everytime he comes in here claiming that we should get along and then starts off by attacking _my _professionalism_.

McCoy forced himself to stay seated and replied through clenched teeth.

"Or maybe, if you would finally grow a fucking heart, I wouldn't have to keep pointing out that you're suppose to actually give a damn about the people on this ship. 'Cause they're people, you know," McCoy glared at him, "Living, breathing people with actual _feelings_."

Spock's eyes narrowed just slightly and McCoy could practically feel the upcoming headache throbbing in his head already. He sighed to himself as he readied himself for yet another round with the green pain in the ass. So much for Jim's orders 'kiss and make up'.

Intellectually, McCoy knew that Jim had his reasons and McCoy really could probably be making a bit more of an effort but damnit, he fucking _hated_ the Vulcan. He'll admit that the man knew how to do his job. But that was just it! Spock knew how to do his job and nothing else. He didn't _care_.

Okay, so he wasn't as completely emotionless as he and McCoy both claimed but that damned logic of his demanded that he _act_ as if he were which meant in most cases, he really didn't give a damn because he'd practically trained himself not to. And Jim didn't get that.

Despite what Jim kept insisting, McCoy didn't believe that Spock actually gave a shit about anyone or anything beyond his precious duty, anymore than he believed Jocelyn was suddenly gonna let him actually visit Joanna in person for her birthday (almost ten years old already, his little girl, growing up so fast and he couldn't even there for any of it).

Jim thought that just because he'd managed to push Spock into showing emotion once (ignoring the fact he'd been choked like a bitch as a result), that the Vulcan was actually some secret softie underneath all that Vulcan stoicism. Worst of all, thanks to that alternate Spock, Jim even believed that Spock cared for _Jim_ which meant the damn fool actually _trusted_ the Vulcan. Trusted, as in a personal kind of trust that had taken McCoy years and a hell of a lot of booze and drunken shenanigans to earn, and every time Spock saved his life or did something that could be construed as caring, that trust flourished just that much more.

It wasn't as if McCoy was ungrateful towards the Vulcan for saving Jim or anything. Hell, he'd even forced himself to thank the man each and every time. Of course, each time Spock would unfailingly brush it off as having done his 'duty' and didn't that response just make McCoy want to wring the damned hobgoblin's neck. But, McCoy wasn't angry because he thought Spock was trying to deny having emotions as Jim kept assuming. Rather it was because McCoy thought the Vulcan was telling the truth.

Each time Jim got himself in another mess, McCoy could practically see the gears in Spock's head working, calculating how much Jim was worth against the possible damages. So far, Jim had managed to tally up enough points on that imaginary scoreboard to keep the Vulcan on his side but one day…

One day, that Vulcan's going to do the calculations and the numbers won't be in Jim's favor.

One day, he was going to fucking abandon Jim to whatever deathtrap he's gotten himself into because it wasn't worth the risk and his _duty_ demanded that he do so.

And one day, McCoy would wake up to find that his best friend, that stupid kid with an annoyingly bright grin and a fucking boat load of hidden issues and the closest thing McCoy had to _family_ since his mother had followed his father into the grave and Jocelyn took Joanna, was gone. All because the damn Vulcan didn't care enough to say screw the fucking numbers and do whatever it took to get Jim back (because Jim _was_ worth it, always worth every goddamn risk).

And how, exactly _how_ was McCoy supposed to _not hate_ the Vulcan in front of him for that?

McCoy lifted his head and bared his teeth at the Vulcan. The fuck he was ever going to trust Jim to this uncaring cold blooded elf.

Half an hour later, they would still be ripping each other apart verbally and just barely restraining themselves from attempting to rip each other apart _physically._ Meanwhile, a furious Nurse Chapel tried simultaneously to stop their fighting while calming down the crying crew members that had accidentally got caught in the crossfire. She didn't have much success on either front.

Then the alert came in that there'd been trouble down on the planet.

And the Captain was now missing.

**A/N:** Ah, very sorry for the delay in updating. I do hope you'll enjoy this little interlude though. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and many thanks for the reviews!


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

Jim watched as Giotto bared his teeth at the Rigaldian approaching him with a hypo in hand.

"Get the fuck away you bastard!"

Giotto struggled and growled curses to no effect. He was too tightly bound and the Rigaldian simply held his squirming form down with one hand and jabbed the hypo at his upper arm. Within seconds the ensign was unconscious and Jim turned his focus back to Lenore.

She met his gaze calmly. Her eyes showed nothing but boredom and perhaps a hint of amusement and a voice spoke up in the back of his head, wondering if it was really Lenore. It could be a clone or maybe he was stuck in some sort of alien dream matrix that was drawing from his memories to make the dream more realistic. Weirder things have happened after all (armadillos, seriously, _fucking armadillos_). Or maybe it was her. _Alive_ and in the flesh right before his eyes and so, so wrong.

He wasn't sure which of those options he preferred.

He sent those thoughts to the brig in his mind. It didn't matter. He was the Captain of the Enterprise and no matter who it was, it was his responsibility to stop them if they proved to be hostile (which his kidnapping had sort of already confirmed that that was indeed the case).

"Up, up now my darling Jaybird."

The singsong words mocked his memories. He gritted his teeth and allowed the Rigaldian to pull him to his feet, wincing as the movement caused his ribs to shift. Bones was _not_ going to be happy with him.

The harsh brightness of the corridor made him squint as he was finally led out of the shadowed cargo hold that they'd been keeping him in. He stumbled painfully as the Rigaldian kept pushing him to keep pace.

"You broke my fucking ribs. Stop pushing me to go faster."

The Rigaldian gave no response save to give Jim a little shove between the shoulder blades again. He looked to Lenore but her attention was not on him. Rather, it was focused on the half dozen phasers suddenly aimed at them.

"Hand over the Captain immediately and you may be granted leniency."

Lenore stumbled back, her eyes going wide with surprise.

"How are you already…."

Her eyes sought out the Rigaldian and she shouted frantically even as the red shirts opened phaser fire,

"Now! Now!"

* * *

><p>McCoy looked over at Chapel who nodded back at him with a grim smile. One never really knew what injuriesdisease/modification they would have to deal with when it came to James T. Kirk but didn't mean they weren't going to do their best to try to prepare for all possibilities anyways.

They snapped to attention as the air above the special sickbay bay transporter pad began to shimmer, signifying an incoming transportation.

McCoy's hands twitched towards the many and varied tools laid out neatly nearby, ready to grab whichever one was needed at a moments notice. Next to him, Chapel shifted as if getting ready to start sprinting.

Finally the shimmer stabilized into Davis along with two red shirts attempting to hold down a convulsing Jim Kirk.

"Broken ribs, stunner crossfire, and unknown injection just a second ago!"

McCoy cursed under his breath as he grabbed a paralytic hypo and stabbed it into Jim while Chapel helped Davis get the man into his personal biobed. They needed to stop his seizures before those broken ribs punctured a lung if they hadn't already. And fuck! McCoy hated unknown injections. Jim's damn immune system was already finickier than a two year old and he could only pray that whatever poison now running through his system wasn't going to kill him before McCoy had a chance to fix the idiot.

"Get me a scan now! And someone fucking hold him down already!"

Underneath his hands, Jim gave a final shudder and finally collapsed back onto the biobed gasping for breath after painful breath. McCoy cursed again. He'd already run a pretty heavy risk of bad reactions with the paralytic hypo. He didn't want to push his luck with painkillers.

Behind him, the transporter shimmered again.

"Head wound, possible concussion!"

"Over here!"

McCoy kept his focus on Jim. Three ribs broken but luckily none of them had pierced a lung. He frowned when he realized that Jim was trying to say something, his lips mouthing the words not loud enough to be heard.

Hands already reaching for osteoregenerator, he leaned down to see if he could maybe catch what Jim was saying.

"The grain, the grain…"

McCoy straightened and began running the regenerator over Jim's ribs while listening to Chapel's reading of the scan, trying to figure out what might have been in the unknown injection and how to counter it.

The grain, the grain.

Had he heard wrong? What the fucking hell did a bunch of grain have anything to do with this mess?

**A/N:** Many thanks to everyone that's been following this story. Sorry about the delay in updating. RL has been really hectic lately not to mention I've recently caught a cold…

Anyways, our dear Captain is back on the Enterprise but he's not out of the woods just yet. What's in store for him next? Find out in the next installment of…Breaking The Cycle!

Remember, reviews are love~


End file.
